Neutron Star
by Oratorio
Summary: "You look like you're waiting for someone." She'd heard Reyes Vidal say those words before, and she hadn't expected to hear them again, here of all places. Betrayed, angry, let down, Sara still can't bring herself to hate him. AKA: hot cave times with a sexy smuggler.


"You look like you're waiting for someone."

It wasn't the first time Sara had heard those opening words, spoken in the same rich mellifluous tones. Last time, it had led to a toast of cheap whisky and an instant connection with a man she had not stopped thinking about since. In all her dreams and fantasies, though, this had not been a possibility.

She said his name. _Reyes_. Her voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger.

Sloane, beside her, had somehow not figured out what was going on. She gazed up at Reyes with a sneer.

"I'm here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler."

Sara could hear a high pitched buzzing in her head. "They're one and the same."

"Surprise." Reyes' sombre expression showed this was no joke. Sara had never felt less like laughing.

"All this time…" She looked at the ground, kicking at the stones. "All along, you've been lying to me."

Reyes' voice was steady. "I haven't lied about everything. You know who I really am."

"Do I?" Sara's tone was sharp. She shook her head, her lips pursing in a bitter moue.

Sloane's strident voice cut through her thoughts. "You said you wanted to 'settle things'. Just how do you plan on doing that?"

Reyes leaped down from the boulder he stood on, striding towards Sloane with a confident swagger that made Sara wonder if he was even slightly bothered about the false persona he had shown her, the kisses he had stolen from her when she had no idea who he really was.

"A duel," he said, his voice ringing loud and clear in the acoustics of the cave. "Just you and me, winner takes Kadara's port."

Sara frowned. "Are you serious? How can you avoid war by killing each other?"

Reyes barely glanced at her. "Better one death than hundreds."

Sloane narrowed her eyes and cracked her knuckles. "Fine. I'll take those terms."

Sara's chest was tight and she swallowed the saliva which was forming bitter globules in her mouth. Sloane was fearless, and she had a long history of military service. She wasn't afraid of a fight, and she had the scars to prove it. Sure, Reyes was cocky and smooth, but she'd seen him fight and – while he was good with a rifle – he wasn't the most natural soldier she'd worked with. Her head was all over the place. She was furious with him – a white-hot anger at the lies he'd told her – but she didn't want him to die. Fuck, she didn't want him to die.

Reyes and Sloane were circling each other, their faces like stone, eyes flinty and focused. It was SAM who noticed the glint of the rifle scope, high in a nook of the darkened cave.

"Sniper. Sights set on Sloane." SAM's mechanical voice supplied in Sara's mind, drawing her eye to the man crouched low with his weapon pointed directly at the Outcast leader.

Sara's lip curled. She should have guessed that he wouldn't fight fair. After all, isn't that exactly what he'd been doing with her? Even so, she found she couldn't intervene. In a matter of seconds, Sloane lay dying on the filthy ground at her feet, and Sara stood looking down at her body, unfamiliar tears pricking at her eyes and her mind a maelstrom of disgust, fear and confusion.

She was never going to mourn Sloane's passing. The woman had been power-hungry, thinking only of herself. There was no way that the Initiative would ever have been able to work with her, not to mention she'd been vile to Sara more than once. But the way the woman had died – walking into a trap set by a polished conman – was an ignominious end to anyone's life. The fact that Sara had thought herself half in love with that self-same conman…

Or at least, half in love with the person she'd imagined him to be. Of course he was never going to be a fucking angel, he was a criminal and a smuggler, living in the shadows of a city built on sin. But the Charlatan… someone with his sights set on running the entire city, and using her to achieve those aims… Sara pushed her palm against her lips and swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat.

"Kadara Port is ours tonight." Reyes' victorious gloating carried through the cavern, bringing her out of her stupor. She glanced up to see him come to a halt beside her, gazing at her impassively.

Sara attempted to school her features into an expression of scorn, but she had the distinct feeling that the hurt in her eyes could not be hidden.

"Seems you got everything you wanted, Reyes," she said, her voice dripping with acid.

Reyes looked at her properly for the first time. His face was expressionless, as smooth and still as a monolith.

"All I want is peace," he said. "Sloane would have brought war to our door, and we don't have the people to survive that. I did what I had to do."

Sara watched as he walked away from her, her eyes boring into his back as if she could force him to stop and turn around, as if she could force him to change the past.

She swallowed hard. "Why didn't you trust me?"

Her words – honest and hurt - stopped him in his tracks. He stood in the mouth of the cave, limned in the light of the sun outside so that she couldn't see his features, only the dark outline of his body. It felt as if he paused for an age, as if on the edge of a fall which would take him to the bowels of hell. Perhaps he was, for when he eventually spoke his voice was raw and pained.

"I… liked the way you looked at me. The way you spoke to me. I was afraid that it would change."

Sara felt her stomach clench as she walked towards him, close enough that she could see the lines around his eyes, the set of his jaw. Goddamn it, she still felt the same way about him, no matter what he had done. She still saw the person beneath the shit-show, the man who so desperately wanted to be someone. And, for her – and now for Kadara Port, too – he was.

"Fucking hell, Reyes," she said, shaking her head. "You don't make this easy for me. But the things I've said, I still mean them. That much hasn't changed."

Reyes stared at her, his lips wavering in a wobbly smile. "You have terrible taste in men."

Sara rolled her eyes. "The worst."

She had no idea who moved first. The air was pushed from her body as Reyes pressed her against the hard rock of the cave walls, sharp edges of stone digging into her hips and shoulders. She didn't even notice the discomfort, so focused was she on his lips descending, the kiss that was hot and desperate as he ground his body against her. His arms were around her waist, crushing them together, his thigh hot between her legs, his eyes open and boring into hers.

When he moved to kiss down her neck, she closed her eyes and gasped.

"I thought you were going to die, you bastard," she murmured, voice breaking, as she felt the edges of his teeth graze the soft skin beneath her jaw.

"And miss out on this?" His breath was hot against her ear. "Not a chance."

He was warm, even through the armour he wore, and the scent of him filled her nostrils. Sweat and sandalwood and leather. Her head tipped back against the granite, her mouth opening to his probing kisses, and she knew at that moment that she was lost. His breath was hot and sweet, with a slightly herbal taste. She groaned as he pressed himself against her, his whole body seeking contact with hers, as if he needed her touch in every place he could find it. Their tongues danced in a duel which was far more evenly matched than the one with Sloane had been.

After some minutes she broke away from his kisses, her lips puffy and her eyes glazed.

"Are you going to call a halt to this again, Reyes? Like you did last time?"

He chuckled, a low rasping sound. "You didn't know the truth, then. Now you do. If you still want me, I'm all yours."

"No stopping?"

"No stopping."

"Oh."

Sara shuddered through her whole body, feeling her arousal tingling in her veins. This man could reduce her to a puddle of need in seconds; she'd spent many nights dreaming of making love to him, although those fantasies had usually involved a soft bed and clean sheets, not being pinned up against a grimy rock face while the lifeless eyes of Sloane Kelly looked on. Drack and Jaal must be around somewhere too, although a quick glance around the cavern didn't reveal their current whereabouts. Still, she'd waited too long for this moment, she didn't want to wait another minute. The others were adults, they could manage their own discomfort – she needed to deal with her own.

"Now, Reyes," she said, her voice a strained and raspy thing. She tugged at his clothing.

"Christ, Sara," he said, breathing hard. "Are you sure?"

"Never been so sure in my life."

Reyes groaned, low and long, and began to fumble with the clips of her armour, the toughened materials of the chestplate hitting the ground with a loud clatter which echoed through the cavern. Her undershirt was thin, sweaty, clinging to the curves of her torso. Reyes ran one hand experimentally across her breast and she shuddered and arched into his touch, her breathing harsh and stuttering.

It didn't take long for her to strip down until she was covered only by the loose undershirt which draped down across her thighs and the practical Initiative-issued black briefs she wore underneath.

"Surprised they don't have the Pathfinder logo on them," Reyes said with a wry smile as he ran a finger across the waistband of the briefs.

"You'd like that, would you?" Sara said on a rough exhale of breath, as he curled one finger underneath the cotton fabric.

"Oh, it turns me on," he said with a grin, "but not as much as taking them off would."

"Hmmm," Sara murmured. "Okay, but first, you're wearing way too many clothes yourself, Mr Charlatan."

Reyes snorted and began to undo the straps and buckles which held his armour together, pushing his breeches down with a sigh as he freed himself from the tight leather. Sara watched, her eyes narrowing as her gaze zoned in on his groin.

"God, Reyes," she said, her voice strange and breathless. "Goddamn you being so sexy."

"Can't help it," he said with a grin and a shrug, before he surged forward and pinned her against the wall once more. She gasped and canted her hips towards him, soundlessly begging him to take her.

Reyes huffed out a laugh. "So eager."

"Now," she said, leaning forward to nip at his neck. "Please."

He shook his head, drawing a whine from deep in her throat. "I intend to take my time, Sara."

"Oh, fuck you," she bit out, her voice strained. Reyes smirked at her.

"You will be," he said, before he leaned forward and scooped her into his arms. She squawked in surprise and wriggled to be put down.

"Steady now," he whispered into her ear before kneeling and setting her down gently against the cold, grey rock which formed the floor of the cave. She shivered but lay back, attempting to pose invitingly, her thighs parted and her breasts pushing into the air.

Reyes paused above her, looking down. "You're beautiful, Sara. Just relax."

She wasn't used to relaxing. She was used to sex being hard and fast, she was used to playing a role that the men she slept with seemed to want. She had always been the seductress – wanton, giving, everything they could imagine in every fantasy they'd ever had. Reyes had seemed to be the same type of man – a man who exuded charm and sex appeal, who could command any woman he wanted. Only, now she'd fallen for his charisma, he was turning out to be very different. Even against the rough rock of a grimy cave.

The heat of his mouth against her core made her whine and buck her hips, Reyes letting out a rough laugh at her desperation.

"I've only just started," he murmured against the damp fabric of her briefs, before his fingers curled around the elastic and slid them down to her ankles. "You might want to find something to hang on to."

Sara's fingers scrabbled in the dirt and stone around her, finding nothing to grasp, her nails breaking on the rock as Reyes leaned back in to her and ran his tongue over her centre. She swore loudly, her thighs closing around his head as he fought to keep her still, fingertips digging into her hips so that she knew she would have bruises in the morning. She didn't care a jot. She spat out curses and words that didn't even make sense, pushing her hips into his mouth as he buried his face between her thighs, his tongue dancing over her skin, flickering across her clit and dipping between her folds. No focus in a fight could compare to the way he concentrated on her now, reading every single whimper and twitch of her body, zoning in on what pulled the strongest reactions. Her hands quested, went to his hair, pulling and twisting the short black strands around her fingertips. Lances of electricity shot through her veins, fizzing and bursting over her skin, and a deep pressure began to build in her abdomen, swelling and pushing her closer to her peak. Everything ached in the most delicious way, as if she was waiting for the waves to break, poised on the edge of a dramatic drop. She felt overwhelmed by sensation and emotion, her eyes fluttering closed, shaking her head back and forth against the solid rock beneath her, ignoring the scratches the sharp edges made on her scalp.

"Fuck, Reyes," she breathed, her voice shaky. "Don't stop."

Sara had lost count of the men she had had, in the past. Sex had been something which had been part of her social life, finding an attractive guy to sleep with, preferably someone who she could play a role with, play at being a seductress, powerful and overwhelming. Someone that they would always remember.

None of them had ever treated her the way Reyes was, now. None of them had ever thought about what would make her feel good.

The feelings rushing through her body now were alien, delicious. She wasn't even having to pretend that she was doing this for anyone other than herself. With a deep sigh, she lost herself in the sensations growing and clenching inside her, winding tightly like a spool of thread and drawing themselves together. She called out his name, _Reyes, Reyes_ , _please_ , her thighs trembling, her skin draped in a glistening layer of sweat, the fabric of her shirt agonisingly rough against her nipples. He persisted; his tongue soft and wet, his fingers dipping into her, his lips tight and focused. Climbing, climbing.

When he closed his lips around her clitoris and sucked, one hand on her hips and the fingers on his other hand moving inside her, she wailed and came apart beneath him, shimmering lights shooting across her vision more vivid than any nebula she had seen from the deck of the Tempest. Her entire body shuddered, the strength in her arms dissipating into a loose-limbed mess, collapsing in on itself like a neutron star.

It took her some minutes to catch her breath, and by the time she was able to say his name he was holding her in his arms and pressing himself against her entrance, gazing into her eyes with a passion that took her breath away. It was all she could do to nod her head, a small movement which nonetheless brought a smile which lit up his features like a beacon. Her body was already a sodden puddle, and the expression on his face as he slowly entered her was enough to send her mind into complete meltdown as well.

He held her close against him and breathed hot, desperate puffs of air against her lips, his amber eyes afire with strange emotion. The lines on his face seemed deeper and more pronounced, his features curling in on themselves as he began to move his hips. She gazed at him intently, measuring and storing every fleeting expression, every movement of his skin, every lick of his lips and flash of his eyes. All the while, her chest filled and expanded with air, with a feeling she couldn't name. It engulfed her, sending sharp lances of pleasure through her veins and sizzling across her skin. Everywhere he touched her she was burning up. Hazard level 2, she thought with a giggle. Rescue was futile.

He said her name in that syrupy smooth voice, trailing away at the end into a moan. Sara met his eyes, holding his gaze, heat zipping through them both. She felt her lips quirk into a smile. She'd assumed this man to be shallow, to be the sort of man who had a string of women trailing through his room on a regular basis. She'd assumed she'd be another conquest, satisfying but ultimately temporary. But that wasn't what was in his face now, as he gazed down at her and shifted inside her. Her chest hurt with the intensity of what passed between them. Was this how it felt? She closed her eyes, _too much, too real._

Reyes knew what she was doing, denying herself the sense of her vision. He pressed down against her chest, his hands in her hair, leaning over to whisper into her ear. If she wouldn't see, she would _hear_.

"You feel amazing, Sara. You are everything. I am more than I thought I could ever be, here with you."

 _Oh, that bastard_. Her eyes flicked open, meeting his dancing golden gaze. There was no escaping what this was, the complete abandonment, the complete passion that they felt for each other. She loved him. She fucking loved him.

"Reyes," she said, curling her legs around his waist. "Reyes, I…"

"I know."

He pushed into her then, sharp and rutting. She gasped and met his movements, searching for a rhythm. A rhythm which followed, quick, shallow thrusts which had him moaning in a tone which sounded like a sob. She tightened around him, teeth worrying her lip, clamping down as he pushed into her harder, hips stuttering, breaths breaking over her skin in harsh pants.

"Come for me," she murmured, and he did, his face crumpling and hands tugging at her hair as he called her name brokenly.

With the weight of him against her chest, with her hands in his hair, with his eyes sleepily gazing up at hers, Sara took a deep breath and assessed the situation.

"Are we in trouble here, or what?" she said finally, a teasing tone to her voice.

Reyes smiled up at her, his face as open as she had ever seen it.

"I've always liked trouble, Sara."


End file.
